Ida rode home all quivering with the pain of her meeting with Maude
Falconer. At first it seemed to her that she must leave Herondale--for
a time, at any rate; that it would be impossible for her to run the
risk of meeting the beautiful woman who had stolen Stafford from her;
but, as she grew calmer, her pride came to her aid, and she saw that to
run away would be cowardly. Herondale was her home, had been her home
long before the Villa had sprung up, and to desert it because of the
proximity of Maude Falconer would be almost as bad as if a soldier
should desert his colors.

But for the next few days she did not leave her own grounds. She grew
pale and listless, and Lady Bannerdale, when she came to look her up,
noticed the change in her, but was too tactful to make any remark upon
it.

"We have missed you so much, my dear," she said, affectionately.
"Indeed, my husband has been quite fidgety and irritable--so unlike
him!--and Edwin has been worse, if it were possible. Men are a great
trouble, my dear Ida. Though perhaps I ought not to say that of mine,
for I count myself lucky in both husband and son. Edwin has scarcely
given me a day's trouble since he was a child. I really think, if I
were asked what are the best gifts bestowed by the fairy godmother, I
should say 'a good digestion and a temper to match,' and I am quite
proud of Edwin's strength and amiability. But even he has been somewhat
of a trial for the last few days; so, my dear girl, do come over and
help me manage them."